Court
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Wordle
You!
Goddamn it.
Well. I hope you don’t feel too sore ;) good luck!
Keep the luck I got talent ;)
Our short text exchange makes me feel like my phone is glowing in my pocket. I have to fight the dopey smile that’s threatening to spread on my face as we suit up. It feels likethere should be some kind of mark on me, but nobody says anything. Instead, my teammates are all especially quiet. When we previously faced off against the Badgers, we lost—and today, in the last game of the regionals, the stakes are high.
Whoever wins goes on to the Frozen Four, so I can understand everyone’s anxiety. However, even if that worry should sit on my shoulders like boulders, I feel light enough to do pirouettes on the ice.
Yes, a lot of that has to do with last night.
No, I don’t feel bad at all.
Nate throws me a look, and I reach over to squeeze his slumped shoulder. I know it’s been hard on him not to hear from his brother since their fight. Even yesterday, Nicko made sure to sneak out before Nate came back from the spa. I’m certain that he will come around. Nate’s his brother, and he loves him. I only hope it won’t be the most prominent thing on my best friend’s mind all night.
As soon as we step on the ice, it becomes clear that both us and the Badgers are bringing our all.
The first period is so demanding, that I can barely catch my breath before my line swaps in again. At the end of it both nets have stayed empty, and we are all carrying the bruises to show for it.
The game stays goalless until the third period. We’re only back on the ice for a few minutes when things take a turn. I’m getting nowhere against the Badgers’ defense. Another failed attempt leaves me panting for air as we line up for the face-off.
“You okay?” Nicko whispers.
“Oh, you’re talking tohim?” Nate hisses from my side.
Nicko stoically presses his lips together, not even chirping back.
I sigh and shake my head. “Guys, come on. You’re only–”hurting yourself by hurting each other,I mean to say, but haveto break off when more Badgers join us, and the puck is back in the game.
We all want to finish the game with something to show for it but are running out of time. Nate’s beside me as we’re making a push into the Badgers’ defensive zone. His eyes seek me out before he swerves the puck over.
I turn and only just catch one of the orange-clad D-men rushing for me, so I sling the pass right back. Nate does his best, but it’s clear he’s caught off guard, and the puck skitters past his stick. And, like he knew it would happen, Nicko is there, ready to steal it.
Freeing myself from the D-man that’s checked me against the boards, I rush back to where my own defense is clamming up. I want Taylor to stop him but also don’t want Nicko to be flattened. In the end my worry is unnecessary: He skates a sharp turn just before our defense, letting them sail right past him. I’m pumping my legs hard to catch up, but I’m still too far away.
Nicko takes his shot.
Around us the stadium erupts, but I can barely hear anything over the ringing in my ears.
From the other side of the goal Nicko is staring at me. His lips are curled into a grin as he skates off, just before his teammates can crash into him with joyful shouts. Instead of letting himself be celebrated, he’s seeking out our green corner. He slams his hand against the number 16 on his chest over and over again, as if he’s trying to tell them who brought them here in the first place. If only they knew.
Our fans are going absolutely nuts, booing and whistling.
“What a fucking asshole,” Taylor scoffs as he comes to a halt beside me.
“Yeah,” I huff, because he’s right. And yet I still hope that somewhere in a New York office the Rebels are currently watching this fucking asshole play his heart out.
The crowd switches to cheering when I rap my fist against the plexiglass and gesture for the team to rally. I bump shoulders with our goalie before I skate over to Nate, offering him my fist as we get into position.
His face is pinched under his helmet, but he gives my hand a quick punch then grabs his stick tightly as we wait for the Badgers.
